To Become A Knight
by Touga
Summary: Camus fulfills a dying man's wish and goes to Iksay Village to find a certain Fraulein Family. How can the Red Knight cope with a young fierce tempered Percival?
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: Characters depicted in the story aren't mine. They belong to Konami.  
  
Prologue  
  
"P-Please. . ." One of the so-called Fire Bringers clutched Camus' sleeve, his face contorted with pain. The former Captain of the Red Knights of Matilda knelt as the wounded man gasped for air. Camus inspected the man's wound across his chest and grimly shook his head. It looked deep and fatal as blood continued to flow. He will not live for long.  
  
"I will listen."  
  
With a shaking hand, the dark haired man reached for something inside his coat. The knight looked at the man's hand as he opened his bloodied palm. "I-Ik. . . say. . ." A key, fashioned as a necklace, rested on his hand. Camus slowly took the item, his grip around the man's shoulder tightened as he willed some of his strength to him. Iksay? Somehow, the name was familiar to him. But where has he heard it before?  
  
The man's gray eyes, which were clouded with pain, pleaded. "F. . .Frau. . .l-lein. . ." His empty hand lay limply on his stomach. Camus watched as the man fought for labored breaths as he tried to finish his request. "P- Please tell. . . my wife a-and. . ." The man's throat worked as he gulped for air. ". . .m-my son. . . that I. . . am. . ." The gray eyes started to empty of life. The pain on the older man's features started to disappear, just to be replaced by an alarming expression of calm as it settled on his face.  
  
". . .sorry. . ." The word was whispered as the man breathed his last.  
  
Moments of silence passed as Camus closed his eyes. Death has claimed yet another victim. But this victim has died by his sword. His jaw clenched. Damn that man! Leading all these men with all the wrong reasons, making them believe the lies he has woven just for them to join him on his twisted quest.  
  
"I shall carry out your wish." Camus vowed. The red-haired knight stood up and bowed his head in a silent prayer for the man's soul. He placed the key inside his pocket and walked back to his friends.  
  
The Village of Milit. . . Located in the middle of Tinto, Kamaro, and Caleria. A cold silence fell upon the little community. The frightened villagers meekly watched as the strangers from Dunan checked the sprawled bodies on the hard, cool ground. Each went from one body to another to see if some of the men, who falsely called themselves the Fire Bringer, were still alive. The wounds inflicted on some were mere flesh wounds, the others weren't so lucky..  
  
There was a little commotion regarding the Flame Champion who was rumored to be in the area. But it was later found out that the said Flame Champion wasn't the real one but Krant, a White Matilda Knight who served under their former commander Gorudo. Seemingly, he was able to collect men to accompany him on his revenge against two of his comrades.  
  
"Heh." A young blond named Nash Clovis smiled as he flexed his shoulders. "No sweat." He nudged one of the unconscious men with his boot. When there was no reaction, he looked around the area for his companions. The Blue Knight Miklotov stood not too far away from him, checking for casualties in the village.  
  
The Red Knight on the other hand was talking to the village chief called Clad, an old goat of a man who didn't want their presence in the village. Nash figured that the knight was apologizing for the incident in the village. He scoffed as he leaned back to a wall, his arms rested behind his head. They were the ones who saved the village. No need for apologies.  
  
Then again, why should he care? He's leaving the village soon anyway.  
  
* * *  
  
Camus watched as the light-hearted young man disappear from his view. Nash Clovis was a pure mystery. He suddenly shows up out of nowhere and leaves after all the excitement. Then again, he was grateful Nash was in the village when they needed help the most. He has proven himself a strong fighter.  
  
But why did he use a different weapon instead of the twin swords he was always carrying? Gross Fluss, Camus remembered Nash calling his swords. Nash merely shrugged then smiled when asked about the oddity. Aye, that young man is indeed mysterious.  
  
"Are you still going to this Iksay Village?" Miklotov interrupted his thoughts. He waited until Maki, a childhood friend of Camus, disappear inside her house. The Red Knight turned to look at his friend and nodded.  
  
"It was a dying man's request." His slipped his hand inside his pocket and gripped onto the key. "I have given my word." 


	2. Farewell

Thank you for the reviews. I really appreciate them and I hope this story lives up to your expectations.  
  
Melissa, I'm sorry I removed this story before. But I'm very grateful that you're interested in it until now.  
  
Lady of Genesis, Nash uses the name Clovis when he does undercover work. Latkje is his real name, based from Suikosource's Blue Moon.  
  
Keshoo Neko, my apologies for not telling you about this. I'll make sure that if I have some new stuff, you'll be the first to know.  
  
Arizona Smith, Crab-Bloke, Marionette, thank you for the votes of confidence. I hope you'll like it until the end.  
  
Disclaimer: Characters depicted in the story aren't mine. They belong to Konami.  
  
To Become a Knight  
  
"We shall be leaving then." Maki looked up as her childhood friend spoke. He looked immaculately clean and handsome again, as if a battle never took place in the village. She frowned at him. He hasn't fully recovered from the burn he received when he saved her life, and now he's leaving? She can't let him go just like that! He must stay here until he gets well!  
  
"I see." Maki replied softly, lowering her eyes. No, she can't demand such things from him, not like how she used to when they were little. After all, he is a grown man now. He knows what he's doing and that he knows what's best for him.  
  
"Take care of yourself." Camus said after a while. Maki nodded in return.  
  
Then, there was an uncomfortable silence.  
  
'Say goodbye, you idiot!' Maki thought to herself. 'Just one word. . . It was never this hard before, was it?' She looked up and met his blue gaze.  
  
"U-Um. . ." She started.  
  
"Camus." Miklotov called by the gates. The Red Knight turned his gaze toward his companion, giving Maki a wonderful view of his perfect profile. Her heart started to pound faster. Why has she never noticed that he was so attractive? "If we don't leave now, nightfall will meet us before we reach Caleria."  
  
'A kiss.' Maki thought. 'Of both farewell and gratitude for what he did for the village.' She was thinking of a platonic kiss on his cheek, of course, nothing else. They were just friends, really. Just friends.  
  
"Aye, Miklotov, in a moment." Camus answered. Maki suddenly moved, so fast and soundless that the female ninja Kasumi would envy (if Maki knew her), and aimed for his left cheek. Camus, at the same time, turned his head back to her to say something.  
  
Their lips met.  
  
Three seconds passed before they recovered from shock. Both quickly parted, a deep flush staining their cheeks. Maki touched her lips, still feeling Camus' warm lips over hers. Camus remained stunned. He has done it with countless women, why was it so different when it came to Maki? And to top it off, it was only a slight brush.  
  
"I-I was. . ." Maki stuttered, wringing her hands in front of her. "I-It was supposed to be a little peck on the cheek."  
  
"A-Ah. . . Y-Yes, of course." Camus finally found his voice. He cleared his throat then smiled. "We'll be off then."  
  
Maki waved and smiled as well. "Take care."  
  
Camus nodded and turned to leave. He walked toward the gates of the village and nodded toward Miklotov, signaling him that they should be leaving. The Blue Knight watched, secretly amused, at his friend's dazed state as he followed him outside the village.  
  
"Stop that." The Red Knight muttered when he heard Miklotov whistling an old Matilda love song.  
  
* * *  
  
"Will you be all right?" Miklotov, the Captain of the Matilda Knights, asked his companion as he mounted his horse. "I hear that the monsters down the Mountain Path are terribly strong."  
  
"You worry too much." Camus answered, waving his white gloved hand carelessly. "Do have faith in my abilities." He rested his left arm on the hilt of his sword Uriah. "Remember that we have the same skills. When you reach Matilda safely, then think that I, too, have reached my destination without harm." He then looked up as a Calerian boy approached them with a brown stallion in tow. The boy gave the reins to the Red Knight and set off after Camus nodded his thanks.  
  
The two knights watched the boy disappear into the crowds. Being the center of trade and commerce, the City of Caleria has always been lively. Filled with active chatter and indistinct shouts of merchants, the city is busy yet again with people who come from different countries who wanted to try their luck in trading. The exotic food and drinks were also one of the factors that intrigued people into visiting the place.  
  
'It has been years since I last came here.' Camus thought. 'The city seemed more eventful than it was before. I wonder if the Harmoian mercenary camp is still stationed here. Those Defense Forces have always been---'  
  
"I apologize for not being able to join you in your quest in Iksay. The summons from Matilda sound urgent." Mikotov interrupted the Red Knight's thoughts. He reined his own horse to the massive gates.  
  
"It is perfectly understandable." Camus answered as he mounted his steed. "Your duties in the Knightdom should always come first. The summons must be serious for them to track you all the way up here and call you."  
  
"Aye." The Blue Knight agreed as the two rode out of Caleria. When they reached the fork that led to two different paths, Miklotov took the one to the left which will take him back to Matilda. "Well then, I must be off. Good luck on your search."  
  
Camus nodded. "I will return to Matilda after I finish this mission. I'll even bring back a souvenir from Iksay." He grinned.  
  
"Your souvenir better not be another beautiful, generously endowed woman." Miklotov sighed over his friend's wicked sense of humor, remembering Camus' preferences in the women he involves himself with. "The last time you brought one back in the Knightdom stirred up a ruckus I'd rather not handle again."  
  
Camus laughed. "Yet I hear that there are a lot of women in Vinay del Zexay, which is only a few hours ride from Iksay, who suit my fancy. Perhaps. . ."  
  
"Maki." That one simple word made Camus shut up. Miklotov watched in amusement as his comrade's face colored into the same shade as his coat, and almost laughed out loud. So, he really does have feelings for her, eh? Then again, he isn't someone who would tease people about it. "Stop wasting time on women. Find the Frauleins in Iksay and give them the key. Then go back to Matilda, the Knightdom needs your strength."  
  
"You have no sense of humor, Miklotov. That's why you don't fare too well in the ladies department." Camus muttered under his breath, but loud enough for the Blue Knight to hear. When Miklotov merely raised a dark eyebrow, Camus cleared his throat. "I will be back soon." He said and placed his right fist on his chest as a form of salute. "Until then."  
  
Miklotov nodded and returned his salute. He dug his heels on the horse's flanks and galloped away, leaving a wave of dust in his wake.  
  
Camus watched as his friend galloped away. He led his horse to the opposite direction and galloped down the Mountain Path. 'Iksay Village. . .' A forbidding expression settled on his handsome face. 'Again, I bring a message from the dead. Damn.'  
  
* * *  
  
The usual calm air of the Village of Iksay was disturbed by two boys rolling down the dirt in a fistfight. A dark-haired, gray-eyed boy of eleven summers swiftly evaded a punch aimed at his face. His opponent, a skinhead twice his size, howled in pain as his fist landed on the hard ground. Taking advantage of this, the dark-haired boy pushed his opponent off him. He then threw himself over Baldy and rained in strong punches on his face.  
  
"Don't you ever call my father names again!" The dark-haired boy shouted as he continued throwing unmerciful punches onto his poor opponent, until his fists started to hurt. There was no one around to stop him. Even Baldy's two lackeys merely stood on the side, watching the fight. They were too scared of him to interfere. The villagers were all in the square, readying themselves for the annual festival held in honor of their goddess Sadie. If only someone would pass by the gates. . .  
  
Just when the dark-haired boy was about to throw his final punch that will surely render the other boy unconscious, he felt someone grab him by the scruff of his neck and was hauled to his feet.  
  
"Enough!" A deep voice stopped the boy from struggling. He looked up and found a blue-eyed stranger in a crimson and white uniform frowning down at him. He glared back.  
  
Camus sighed and released the boy. "Go." He commanded and gave him a little push. "I believe you've proven yourself to your friends."  
  
The boy frowned over the stranger's sarcastic remark and retorted. "Mind your own business, old man." Before Camus could even say anything, the boy disappeared into the village.  
  
"Nice kid." The Red Knight muttered under his breath.  
  
"T-Thank you for stopping him, sir." One of Baldy's companions said as he helped his friend to his feet, draping his injured friend's arm across his shoulders.  
  
"Aye, we couldn't have stopped him." The other with spectacles joined in, taking Baldy's other arm.  
  
Camus nodded. "Steer clear from him for a couple of days." The two nodded and turned to bring back their injured friend to the village. He then remembered the reason why he came to the village. "Er, can you tell me where I can find a Fraulein?" He called to the boys.  
  
Both stopped and turned. The boy with spectacles pointed toward the village. "The dark-haired boy before was a Fraulein, sir." He winced. "Percival Fraulein." 


	3. To Reach Out

Thank you for the reviews. Appreciate them very much. Hope you guys will like this chapter. Disclaimer: Characters depicted in the story aren't mine. They belong to Konami.  
  
To Become a Knight  
  
"Is that him?"  
  
"Yes, the Fraulein boy. Don't come near him. He's dangerous."  
  
"I heard he beat up the butcher's son just this morning."  
  
"His mother must be very disappointed with how he has turned out."  
  
"I think his father is the one at fault, leaving them when they need him the most."  
  
Percival clenched his bandaged fists and stopped in front of the group of gossiping women. He gave them a dark glare which quickly silenced them. Why can't people stop talking about them and just mind their own business? He didn't start the fight anyway. The other boy did when he started insulting his father.  
  
He watched as the women hurriedly dispersed to do their duties, as if finally remembering that they should continue preparing for the village festival. He tore his dark gaze from the women, as he slipped his hands in the pockets of his faded blue pants, and continued on his way to the fields. He passed by the tables put together in the middle of the village. A feast will be placed there, an offering to their goddess Sadie.  
  
The light breeze ruffled his soft black hair as he neared the windmills at the far end of the village. It was yet another boring day in Iksay, even though there was a festival going on. Well, save for the exercise he got from the butcher's son that morning. He made a mental note to thank Baldy for the activity, after he recuperated from the beating, that is.  
  
He noticed the villagers practically scamper away from his path as he walked. He knew he wasn't very well-liked in the village, his short temper made sure of that. It was entirely his father's fault anyway. He has been gone for months and he never even wrote to them. He made his mother suffer and do all the work while that irresponsible father of his was out there doing only Sadie knows what.  
  
Feh! Thinking about his father makes his head hurt. Percival stopped in front of his father's fields and scanned the area. The vegetables were ready for picking. His mother told him to gather their produce and bring them back home so that she could sell them in a nearby city. He bent and started to do his errand.  
  
He never liked farming. Planting seeds and growing them didn't interest him at all, but it seems that he had no choice since he's living in a remote village like Iksay. He wanted something else, something that required more than just bending and waiting. Something like. . . ranching. Yes! Horses are his passion. Taking care of horses and breeding them is definitely far more interesting than a bunch of vegetables.  
  
He straightened up, excitement lighting up his eyes. He will leave the village and try his luck in a city. A rancher he will become!  
  
"Er, pardon me, young man." Percival looked up at the stranger who was suddenly standing beside him. He never heard him coming and winced over his lack of concentration. Damn, his instincts were off. What if it had been the butcher's son and he wanted to get even with him? He could have been beaten black and blue! He swore that he'll never daydream again.  
  
"What do you want?" The dark-haired boy glared at the man as he recognized him. It was the same man who roughly hauled him off Baldy this morning. Percival's dark glare ran over the stranger from head to toe, a look meant to insult, but the stranger seemed not to mind. He appeared to have come from a distant country from his unfamiliar red and white apparel. He looked annoyingly arrogant in, Percival's thinking.  
  
"One of your. . . er. . . friends directed me to you when I asked for a Fraulein." The red haired man answered with a friendly smile, yet his eyes were guarded. "May I see your mother?"  
  
"Why?" He asked, his dark eyes narrowed. "If you're planning to tell her what happened this morning, I already beat you to it."  
  
"No, it's of a more important matter." The seriousness in the man's voice triggered an unwelcome alarm in Percival. Why he would suddenly feel uneasy, he did not know. Gathering the produce in his arms, he turned to walk back toward the village.  
  
"Follow me."  
  
* * *  
  
Silence filled the Fraulein household. Percival stood in a corner of the small dining room, his fists clenched on his sides. He felt as if the room was closing in on him, suffocating him. What he heard can't possibly be true. He looked at his mother, who sat across the red-haired man called Camus. She was white as a sheet, most probably feeling what he's feeling now.  
  
"He wanted me to give you this." Camus continued, placing a small bronze key on the table in front of him. Both mother and son merely looked at the object, as if afraid of even touching it.  
  
"H-How did this come to pass?" His mother asked. Although the Matilda Knight already told them the whole story, they wanted to hear it again. Needed to hear it again- until it fully penetrates them.  
  
"He joined a group of bandits called the Keepers of the Flame and attacked a small village called Milit." Patiently, Camus retold the story. He completely understood what the remaining Frauleins were feeling. He has seen this same grief before when one of his knights fell, and he personally delivered the news to his lamenting family. It was a very unpleasant situation. "Some comrades of mine from the Dunan Republic were also there. We were able to defeat the false Flame Champion and his men. Some survived, the others weren't so lucky."  
  
"B-But why did he join those bandits?" The woman started to cry. "He was just a farmer! He can't even fight!" Percival watched as his mother finally broke down and cried. He wanted to go to her and comfort her, to remind her that she wasn't the only one who lost a loved one. Damn, he wanted to cry along with her.  
  
But he can't. He must remain strong. One of them should.  
  
"I will present no excuses for what I have done. It was my sword that felled your husband." Camus continued. "I'm sorry."  
  
Silence. That was to be expected. Camus shifted his gaze from the mother to her son. He expected the boy to explode any minute now. From what he has gathered, the Fraulein boy had a fierce temper, but he isn't displaying any of that now. Why?  
  
Camus looked up when he heard the front door close. Percival left.  
  
* * *  
  
Percival sat on a high branch of a large Pasania tree near his father's fields and stared in space, paying no heed to the beautiful picture the sunset created. He has always gone to that exact same spot to alleviate whatever problem that came to him, it was his sacred place. The soft cool breeze of the fields has always soothed his mind from his troubles. But not today.  
  
Today, he just felt numb. His father won't be coming back to them. He never will.  
  
Numbness is good; he realized as he lowered his head and closed his eyes. It can stop him from feeling the pain their loss can bring. It can make him stronger, tougher; for emotions could only weaken a person, just a sign of vulnerability. It will break him if he let it. In a situation like this, he must remain strong, for both him and his mother. It was the only way for them to endure this ordeal.  
  
"It's all right to cry once in a while." Percival almost fell off the tree branch when Camus suddenly spoke. The boy visibly tensed as his gray eyes scanned the area below him and settled on the Red Knight standing on his left, he then sighed. What in Sadie's name is he still doing here?  
  
"Go away." The boy redirected his gaze ahead of him. Camus recognized the look in his eyes before he turned away. There was no emotion whatsoever, only hollowness, which will eventually lead to indifference. Not a very good sign.  
  
The boy cannot become like that. Camus will not let him. His conscience, which he thought has gotten tired of him and ran away, had suddenly sneaked up back to him, devising a peculiar punishment. Atonement. He will commit himself into helping this family, especially the boy. Camus won't let his spirit break.  
  
"Your mother wasn't the only one who lost a loved one." The knight said softly as he leaned back to the massive tree trunk, slipping his arms inside his pockets. "You might think that keeping your tears, your pain inside is a good idea. And then after a while, you'll start thinking that's how it's supposed to be." Silence met his words, and Camus knew that the boy was listening to him. "But it isn't."  
  
"Do you know the saddest thing that can happen to a person?" He continued when Percival still didn't say anything. "When he starts not feeling anything anymore. . . when he becomes a mere empty shell of a man." There was silence again, longer this time; the only sound heard in the field was the soft whisper of the breeze.  
  
"It is better to become a man without a soul than to become a man who succumbs to his emotions, exposing him to vulnerability." Percival suddenly spoke up, much to Camus' surprise. He was beginning to think that the Fraulein boy would sulk the whole afternoon away.  
  
"No, that would merely be putting up a barrier to protect yourself from these sufferings. That would mean you are afraid of facing your pain and your grief." He answered. Was he really talking to an eleven year old boy? Camus wondered. His thinking seemed far too advanced for his age.  
  
"Emotions weaken you."  
  
"Emotions strengthen you." Camus sighed. "It is only when you fully experience and accept these weaknesses, as you call it, will you be able to move on."  
  
"What's the use?" Percival scoffed. "I don't care anymore."  
  
"You should." Camus replied. "For your mother."  
  
"What's it to you anyway?!" Percival finally snapped and jumped down from the branch. Camus straightened up from the tree when he sensed that Percival would finally react to him. He stood up, with his hands on his sides. "You were the one who killed my father! Why should you care if anything happens to us?!" He gave the Red Knight a hard shove.  
  
"You're angry. That's good."  
  
"I'm not angry!" Percival shouted as he landed a solid punch on Camus' middle. The Red Knight didn't even budge. Why the hell was he psychoanalyzing him? "I told you! I don't care!" In angry frustration, Percival started to throw hard punches at the knight. He wanted the older man to feel his pain, wanted to inflict some on him, even physically. "I DON'T CARE!"  
  
Camus stood still as the boy continued to hit him hard. He waited until Percival exhausted himself from the feat, his blows finally weakening. When the boy stepped away from him with his head bowed, Camus realized that he was quietly shedding tears.  
  
They stayed there, rooted to the spot for a while, one waiting patiently for the other to rid himself of his anguish.  
  
The sun has finally set. Percival took a deep breath as he quieted down.  
  
"Come on." Camus quietly said after a while. "Let's go back." Percival nodded without looking at the knight and led the way back to the village.  
  
Geez, that kid sure knows how to fight. Camus winced, secretly rubbing his sore abdomen and sides, as he followed Percival to his home. He was sure as hell he will bruise in the morning. 


	4. Of Horses and Women

Thank you for the reviews. I'm glad you liked the story thus far and I hope it continues to live up to your expectations.. This chapter would be the second to the last. Please bear with me. ^_^ Disclaimer: Characters depicted in the story aren't mine. They belong to Konami.  
  
To Become a Knight  
  
Acceptance has always been the hardest thing to do, especially when the matter that should be accepted is the death of a loved one. It takes time and a great deal of emotional and mental strength. But it shouldn't stop there. Know the pain, accept it, and then detach from the experience. One must continue to move on.  
  
"It was war." Camus remembered Percival's mother tell him a few days ago, finally accepting the fate of her husband. "Anything was bound to happen."  
  
Well, that takes care of everything. Camus thought as he strolled outside the village inn, strapping his sword on. Mornings have always been beautiful in Iksay. The windmills lazily turned due to the cool morning breeze. Roosters crowed as villagers stepped out of their houses one by one to start a new day. Some started milking their cows; others carried baskets to collect their produce in the fields.  
  
To him, the provincial life has always been a sight to behold. He will miss it since he has already accomplished what he has come for in Iksay. It's about time he returned to Matilda. His duties await.  
  
"Lord Camus." He turned and recognized the voice of Percival's mother, smiling as the older woman approached him. She was bringing a rather large basket full of vegetables, which, from the looks of it, she has trouble carrying.  
  
"Good morning, madam." The Red Knight greeted, meeting her halfway and taking the basket from her. "I'll carry that for you." The woman nodded her thanks and led him to the hackney near the village entrance. He placed the basket beside a dozen more. "Selling them in a nearby town?"  
  
"Aye." She answered. "I'm coming along with fellow vendors. We'll be away for a day or two."  
  
"I see." Camus nodded. When the woman didn't make a move to go, Camus asked with a smile. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"  
  
"W-Well, yes." There was a slight hesitation. "Actually, there is." She took a deep breath. "As you know, my son has the fiercest temper in the village. He'll end up fighting all the villagers even with the slightest provocation. He needs someone to look after him."  
  
Uh-oh.  
  
"I won't be around to do that because of work." The woman pleaded. "Could you please look after Percy while I'm away?"  
  
Percy? He tried stifling a laugh. Ah, so that's what his mother calls him. It was a miracle he let her call him that. The Red Knight should be going back to Matilda but then again, this could prove interesting. "Worry not, Mrs. Fraulein. Percy won't be causing any trouble while I'm around."  
  
* * *  
  
The tiny bell hanging on the door tinkled as Camus and Percival entered a small shop, announcing that customers have arrived. Percival stared at the variety of weapons that lined the walls. There were swords of different sizes, axes, maces, war hammers, and even bows. This was the first time he saw the interior of the shop. The blacksmith didn't allow children inside for most of the equipment inside are dangerous.  
  
The blacksmith stood up and welcomed them. "Har har har!" The short stout middle-aged man jovially roared. "If you want your weapons sharpened, you have come to the right place!"  
  
Camus nodded and handed over his sword Uriah. Percival went from one weapon to another, fascination lighting up his eyes. His gaze settled on the biggest axe decorated on the wall. Could a human really wield such a colossal weapon? He'd like to meet someone with that strength one day.  
  
Suddenly, he frowned when he felt that someone was watching him. He looked around and his gaze clashed with the biggest blue eyes he'd ever seen. Wait, hold that thought. It was just her glasses magnifying her eyes. When the girl realized that she's been caught staring, she quickly lowered her gaze and pretended to read a book.  
  
Percival tore his gaze from the girl and continued scanning the weapons on the wall. The hairs on his back stood when he felt those disturbingly big blue eyes on him again. He glared back at the girl and caught her looking at him again before she raised the book to her face, breaking their eye contact. What the heck is the matter with her?  
  
"Well? What are you waiting for?" Camus suddenly materialized behind Percival and gave him a nudge. "Go talk to her!"  
  
"No way!" Percival replied angrily amidst the loud clanking of the hammer as it met steel. "Why should I do that?" He looked at the girl sitting on the other side of the room. The blacksmith's daughter, he remembered, has her head buried between the pages of an open book. An open, upturned book. What gives?  
  
"Because she likes you, you dope." Camus answered not unkindly.  
  
"How do you know that?"  
  
"I just do. Now, go!"  
  
"No!"  
  
"You can't do it, can you?" Camus sighed, an exaggerated show of disappointment. He sadly shook his head.  
  
Percival's hackles rose. "Can't do what?"  
  
"Charm her."  
  
"Now why would I want to do that?!"  
  
"Wimp." Camus muttered under his breath, but made sure Percival heard him. "Can't even talk to a little girl. . ." Even before the knight could continue baiting him, Percival stomped toward where the girl was sitting. Camus watched with amusement.  
  
All he could see was the crown of the girl's blonde head as he stopped in front of her. "Hey." Percival called. The girl flinched and shyly raised those big blue eyes to him. There was a deep flush on her cheeks. Percival frowned as he wondered why. Must be because it was stuffy in the room.  
  
Camus waited in anticipation for what the boy would tell her.  
  
"Why were you staring at me the moment we entered the shop?" Percival growled, slamming both his hands on the table before him. "It's rude, you know? Didn't your mother---" Camus was suddenly standing behind him, clamped a hand over the boy's mouth before he could finish, apologized to the girl, and dragged Percival away.  
  
On their way out, Camus grabbed his sharpened sword, thanked, and paid the blacksmith.  
  
"Har har har! Come back anyti-" The door closed before the blacksmith could finish.  
  
"What were you thinking?" The Red Knight demanded, half annoyed, half amused as they stepped out of the shop. He really didn't know how to react. What the boy did was both appalling and entertaining. "The girl was about to cry!"  
  
"She was being rude." Percival frowned as he mulled over what the knight said. She really was about to cry. Was it because of what he said? "And that man's 'Har har har' crap is annoying me." To his utmost surprise, Camus started to laugh. Hard.  
  
"I can't believe you did that!" He leaned back on the wall, his shoulders still shaking with laughter. "You are absolutely clueless when it comes to girls, just like Miklotov is!"  
  
"Hey." Percival called warningly. He doesn't like being laughed at. He was sure whoever that Miklotov person is suffers embarrassment every time he's with Camus. The Red Knight was just too passionate with trivial subjects and too outspoken for his own good.  
  
"But I will not let that happen to you." Camus promised as he patted the boy's head. Inspiration struck as the cogwheels of his wicked mind turned. "You do not deserve such a sad fate. I will teach you the ways of women. What do you say?"  
  
Percival's eye twitched as dread filled him.  
  
* * *  
  
To gain Percival's undivided attention on the subject Camus is about to teach him, the Red Knight should think of a good analogy. The answer came to him when he found the boy in the village stables, tending to his horse. He has always noticed Percival's keen interest in horses. Maybe he could use that to his advantage. Camus walked toward the stables and watched Percival groom his horse, an I'm-a-genius smile pasted on his lips.  
  
"You sure are the most magnificent creature I've ever seen." Percival ran his hand through the dark bay's mane. "Wish you were mine."  
  
"Give a woman that kind of attention and she'll be putty in your hands." Camus chuckled behind him.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Never mind." The knight said waving a gloved hand. "I've come to continue our conversation a while ago."  
  
"Whatever." Percival shrugged as he continued grooming the horse.  
  
"A horse is essential to a warrior." Camus started as he leaned on the stable railings. Percival stopped, a dandy brush in hand, and turned, confusion marring his brows. "A knight, in my case, wouldn't be complete without his horse."  
  
"O-kay." Percival said slowly, wondering what the knight was talking about now.  
  
"Women and horses are very much alike. A man wouldn't be complete without his woman." Was he messing it up? Camus wondered as Percival continued frowning at him. He tried again. "I've seen how you've been taking care of my horse. Treating women in such a way shouldn't be too hard, eh?"  
  
"So what you're saying here is that I should treat women like how I treat horses?"  
  
There was a slight pause. "When it comes from you, it sounds disturbing." Camus chuckled. "But yes, that's basically it. You can use your love for horses and convey that emotion to women." Yes, that explanation was better. Camus beamed when he came up with a better rationalization. "Treat women like how you treat your mother."  
  
"So I have to treat women like how I treat my mother. . . and horses." Percival deduced. He frowned. "Are you comparing my mother to a horse?"  
  
"No!" Camus replied exasperated, running a hand through his hair. But when he saw the corner of Percival's lips lift into a crooked smile, he raised an eyebrow. "You're deliberately misunderstanding me."  
  
"Would never dream of doing so." Camus could hear the smile in the boy's voice as he resumed grooming the horse. Underneath that seemingly angry expression, the boy was hiding natural wit and charisma. He has it in him after all! The knight took pity on the girls whose hearts he'll break in the future. That is, if the boy could keep up with him.  
  
Camus smiled as he shook his head. "All right, Percy, this is the most important part of the lesson. Listen well."  
  
"Don't call me that!"  
  
The Red Knight ignored him. "Women are to be respected and loved. They have strengths that men don't have. They are there to complement with men and should be treated as equals. You should never ever toy with them. Or else I'll track you down and give you a good whack on the head!"  
  
* * *  
  
Camus' sword Uriah seemed to gleam right before Percival as he held it. Both sat at the tavern, Camus drinking a mug of ale while juice was served for Percival.  
  
"It's a long-sword, Percy." Camus supplied. He received a dark glare from the boy and laughed. "Anyway, this kind of sword is what most knights use. It is more effective in tighter, closer mannered combats but utilizing this weapon requires more than just the typical hacking and slashing style. Using this sword isn't as simple as you think. Now isn't that interesting?"  
  
It sure is. Percival thought as he ran a finger on the flat side of the blade. From the looks of the sword, the wielder should consider its length and it seems that he can utilize it both offensively and defensively. If the wielder sat mounted on a horse, will he be able to strike down an enemy who was only on-foot? It seemed so.  
  
Percival half listened as Camus continued telling him the different types of swords. His dream of being a rancher is slowly going down the drain as a new goal materialized in his head. What if he became a knight instead? He could learn a lot about horses and weaponry like Camus. Becoming a Matilda Knight would be brilliant!  
  
"---and that's how I became a powerful mage, destroyed a country, and transformed my apprentice into this sword."  
  
"W-What?"  
  
"You haven't been listening." Camus shook his head with a smile. "What's the matter? Classifications of swords boring you to death?"  
  
"N-No, it's not that." The boy reddened with embarrassment. "It's just that---"  
  
His head hung sideways, his lids drooping. Camus faked a loud snore as he pretended to nod off to sleep. "Huh? What? Sorry." He blinked and rubbed his eyes. "Were you saying something?"  
  
Before Percival could even form a reply, the innkeeper's daughter, who was about Percival's age, approached their table. The pretty brunette clutched her apron timidly as she stood beside Percival, a slight blush on her cheeks.  
  
"Um. . . Hi, Percival." She greeted. "I-It's been a long time since we saw each other." The girl was obviously nervous over something, Percival thought. But her comment had him frowning.  
  
"What are you talking about? We just saw each other last--- OW!" Percival yelped when he felt one of Camus' leather boots stomp hard on his soft-skinned one. Okay, okay, he got the message! "I-I mean, yeah, how have you been?" Percival tried to smile but was able to produce a wince instead.  
  
"Fine. You?" She blushed even deeper.  
  
"I'm good."  
  
Then there was silence.  
  
Camus waited in anticipation.  
  
Silence.  
  
Camus sweatdropped.  
  
"W-Well, it's nice seeing you again." The dark haired girl finally said. She nodded toward Camus in acknowledgment and left. Percival heaved a sigh of relief and looked at Camus to continue their bantering.  
  
"What's that idiotic smile on your face for?" Percival demanded, his hackles rising yet again.  
  
"She's very pretty, isn't she?"  
  
"I don't like girls."  
  
"But they like you." Camus chuckled. "Although the why of it is so great a mystery, I need a detective to figure it out."  
  
The challenge hung in the air and Percival promptly accepted. "I'll show you why." A smug smile formed on his lips. He loves challenges. And he never lost in any. 


	5. A Knight

Ah, the final chapter. Thank you for reading it until the end. This is a little longer than the previous chapters. Please bear with it. It's the last one, after all. ^_^ Disclaimer: Characters depicted in the story aren't mine. They belong to Konami.  
  
To Become a Knight  
  
". . .and that's how my father defeated two Dark Bunnies on the plains." The innkeeper's daughter looked at the boy sitting across her and smiled, her green eyes twinkling. Percival returned her smile with one of his own. He has found that he has been smiling quite frequently these days. It's because of that Red Knight's idiotic challenge two days ago. Can't charm a girl, eh? Hn. He'll show him.  
  
"That's all fine and interesting." Percival replied after sipping a small amount of juice served in front of him. "But I'd rather we talk of a more important matter."  
  
"Oh?" The beautiful brunette asked with her brows raised. "And what would be more important than my father?"  
  
"You."  
  
The innkeeper's daughter blushed.  
  
Camus' choked on his drink. That was damn smooth! He never taught the boy that! The Red Knight could only shake his head in amazement as he replaced his cup on the table. He was enjoying a drink in the tavern that afternoon when the boy suddenly burst inside. Percival stood in front of Camus with a smug smile and told him to watch. And watch he did as he invited the girl for a drink and a little chat on the table beside his. That was when the boy started weaving his magic. By the goddess, has he created a monster?  
  
Then again, has he forgotten what Camus told him a few days ago? He frowned. That women are to be treated equally and are not to be toyed around with? If he did, a good whack on the head should refurbish his memory.  
  
Percival looked over at the girl's left to see the knight's dumbfounded expression. Instead, he received a disapproving look. What? He isn't doing anything wrong. He wasn't fooling around with the girl. Percival really found her pretty and interesting. He was being sincere with her.  
  
'I'm serious.' Camus could clearly see the message in the Percival's gray eyes. He narrowed his own but nodded nonetheless. All right, he will trust the boy.  
  
"I see you have been enjoying your stay here." An all-too familiar voice suddenly spoke behind the Red Knight as he raised his cup to his lips for a drink. Recognizing it instantly, he turned around and stood up, a welcoming smile on his lips.  
  
"Miklotov." Camus greeted his friend as he placed a fist on his chest in a form of salute. "Good to see you again." The Blue Knight returned the gesture. He pulled a chair across Camus and sat, raising a hand to gain the tavern server's attention. "I was given more than enough time to finish my business here." The red haired knight continued after Miklotov placed an order. "Have I already exceeded my time limit?"  
  
"Nay, my friend." He answered as he unbuckled his sword from his belt and placed it on the table. "You still have a month left."  
  
"An ample time to get back to Matilda." Camus shrugged. "It seems that the summons you received before was no problem at all. Since you are back here so fast."  
  
"Nay, the summons was quite important." Miklotov said with a shake of his dark head. "Our trading routes leading to the Grasslands are plagued with bandits. Merchants from various cities and villages have been complaining about it." His cup of ale arrived as the server placed it on the table and quickly retreated. "I've assigned sentinels to guard the roads."  
  
"Good move." Camus nodded. "And the reason why you are here?"  
  
"I will go to the Zexen Council tomorrow to propose a new trading route." He replied after taking a big gulp of his drink. "They should find this proposal interesting since it will bring them as far as Jowston."  
  
"I see." Camus leaned back, an arm draped over the back of his chair while the other held his almost empty cup. "I can accompany you tomorrow to Vinay del Zexay."  
  
"Are you finished here?"  
  
"Just about." The Red Knight answered. "See that dark haired boy sitting behind you?" He raised his cup and tipped it, indicating Percival. Miklotov turned his head to his right for a quick look then returned his gaze to his friend and nodded. "That's the Fraulein boy. I've been instructing him on how to wield a sword, among other things." Camus continued. "He's a remarkable student. A fast learner."  
  
Miklotov took another quick look at the boy and noticed his smile. An almost similar smile Camus wears whenever he's. . . charming, as he would call it, a female companion. "I can see clearly what those 'other things' you're teaching him are." He chuckled. "Bloody hell, you created a monster out of that boy."  
  
His sentiments exactly, Camus laughed. "Don't worry. He'll come around in the end and settle down." He waved a gloved hand dismissively. "Once he finds the right woman." He added almost quietly. Miklotov hid a smile as he gulped down his ale. So, his friend speaks from experience, eh? "I'll even wager he wouldn't know what to do when love finally strikes him. All renowned rakes don't."  
  
"Like you." It wasn't a question but a statement. Miklotov chuckled as one particular woman entered his mind.  
  
Camus grinned as he recovered from his reverie. "Mayhap."  
  
* * *  
  
"Parries are made with the flat of the blade." Camus instructed as the training continued the next morning. Both knight and boy stood by the fields, far away from the villagers who were picking their produce. The crops danced as the soft morning breeze blew. Another perfect day for training. "Attack me." The Red Knight said.  
  
Percival raised his wooden sword which was fashioned by him to perfection and swung. His attacks were easily parried by Camus. "Now, I attack and you parry." The boy nodded and prepared himself for the knight's offense. Camus swung his wooden sword, and each strong blow was met by Percival's defense.  
  
He was able to parry all the knight's attacks, albeit exhausted from the feat. The Red Knight is undoubtedly strong, Percival thought as he dragged in deep breaths. It was good that the knight wasn't being too easy on him. He won't improve if that were to happen.  
  
He paused. What if he used two hands instead of one to both attack and defend? Perhaps he would stand more of a chance and---  
  
"I see your training is going well." Percival looked up when Camus' friend approached them. The Red Knight introduced him as Miklotov, the Captain of the Blue Knights, in the tavern yesterday. "Perhaps I could also teach you a thing or two. If that's all right with you, Percival?"  
  
It is definitely all right, Percival thought excitedly. To learn sword handling from the two renowned knights of Matilda. He couldn't have asked for more!  
  
"You can call him Percy, Miklotov." Camus said as he handed his wooden sword to his friend. "He likes being called that." The Red Knight laughed when Percival gave him a dark glare. He leaned back on the massive trunk of the Pasania tree nearby and watched the two duel.  
  
Camus and Miklotov have almost the same style of swordsmanship, Percival observed as his wooden sword clashed with Miklotov's. He distinctly remembered Camus telling him that he and the Blue Knight hold the longest duel in Matilda. The one who reigned victorious, he does not know. But it couldn't have mattered now that he's seen their skills. Both emanate quiet strength and power. He respected them for that.  
  
The duel ended. Percival almost knelt in exhaustion as he gasped for shallow breaths. Miklotov whistled as he sauntered back toward Camus. The Red Knight straightened from the tree. "That was fun." He smiled as he took the wooden sword from Miklotov. "My turn, Percy?"  
  
The boy nodded, despite his fatigue, and raised his sword. Camus watched as the boy continued to gulp for breaths. This boy's will is definitely remarkable. A bright future lay ahead of him. "Hey, Miklotov, this boy is going to be one of the best swordsmen in the land, don't you think?" Camus lowered his hand and turned to the Blue Knight.  
  
"Aye, the world should better watch out for him. He will become strong."  
  
Percival lowered his guard and stared at the two knights. Are they praising him? Do they really think he has the potential of becoming one of the best swordsmen? A smile started to form on his lips.  
  
"Of course." Camus continued as he walked back toward the tree. "That is because it is we who are teaching him how to wield a sword. Everything depends upon the teacher after all." He turned and Percival saw a smug smile pasted on his lips. His own vanished.  
  
Miklotov laughed when he bore witness to Percival's reaction. "Camus jests, my boy. You should understand by now your mentor's wicked sense of humor."  
  
"Aye. Wicked." Percival muttered as he walked toward the two. The Red Knight smiled sheepishly then motioned them that they should get back to the village.  
  
"It's about time we leave for Vinay del Zexay, Camus." Miklotov said as they stopped in front of Percival's house. The boy went inside in a hurry, the two knights didn't seem to notice.  
  
"I agree." The Red Knight nodded. "Yet I hear that the Zexen Council is quite pompous and difficult to deal with. They will not speak to you if they deem you unimportant."  
  
"I will not tolerate that kind of treatment." Miklotov answered with a hard note in his voice. "I have come because of an important proposition. I will not be shrugged off."  
  
Camus nodded. "The horses are stabled this way." He led the way to the village stables. Both took out the two horses Miklotov brought along and started to saddle them. The dark bay Camus brought that day he arrived in Iksay snorted, catching his attention. Percival has been tending to that horse. The Red Knight believed that he has even been training with it. He saw them once galloping around the fields, the boy having perfect control on the large animal. With a curt command from Percival, the horse slowed down to a walk. And to Camus' amazement, it began to skip. He smiled. What other tricks did the boy teach the horse?  
  
"Can I go with you?" Percival suddenly appeared behind them. He has freshened himself up and changed to a simple white tunic and black pants. So that was why he hurriedly ran inside the house, eh? He wanted to come along.  
  
"Er. . ."  
  
"Please?" The boy said. "I'll be good. I just wanted to see Vinay del Zexay again."  
  
The Blue Knight replied before Camus could. "Fine by me." Miklotov shrugged as he mounted his horse. "Taking him will be no trouble at all."  
  
Camus sighed. "All right, Percy. Just tell your mother. I'll saddle up your horse."  
  
"I already told Mum." Percival beamed. "I'll saddle Kelpie myself."  
  
"Kelpie?"  
  
"The dark bay." Percival answered as he took the horse out of the stable. "In a foreign folklore, Kelpie is a water spirit in the form of a horse that would drown its riders."  
  
"That doesn't sound so pleasant."  
  
"Aye, but I interpreted it to another meaning." The boy answered as he fastened the girth to the straps. "This Kelpie will lead you to the swift waters of victory in battle and drown you with its glory." Percival paused then realized what he has done. He turned to look at Camus. "Forgive my rudeness for naming your horse. I was just---"  
  
"It doesn't matter, Percy." Camus cut him off with a smile as he mounted his horse. "I have a mind of bestowing the horse to you anyway."  
  
For the first time in his life, Percival was speechless.  
  
"Let's go." Miklotov chuckled and led the way to the village gates. Camus nodded and followed suit. Percival quickly finished saddling the dark bay, mounted on it, and followed the two knights out. Kelpie is his? He smiled as he ran his hand on the horse's dark mane.  
  
"Thank you." Percival said quietly to the back of the Red Knight. Too quietly that Camus could not have possibly heard him. He cleared his throat. This is the first time he received anything in his life. So expressing gratitude is completely new to him. He cleared his throat to try again. Before he could say anything, he saw Camus raise his right hand in a dismissive wave. He heard him after all.  
  
* * *  
  
"The Council Hall is this way." Miklotov said the moment they entered the busy city of Vinay del Zexay. Percival's dark eyes lit with excitement as he surveyed the city once again. It was as beautiful as ever. Large houses and shops surrounded them as they treaded the cobblestone pathways leading to the Council Hall. Indistinct and loud chatter can be heard, people ambled from one merchant to another for one-day sales; children played tag; knights clanked their way around the city, supervising the activities that were happening inside.  
  
"Can I go to the marketplace for a little while?" Percival asked the Matilda Knights as they reached the Council Hall. "My mother wanted me to buy some supplies."  
  
"All right." Camus nodded. "You can even explore for a little while. I'm certain our talk with the Council will take some time." He leaned toward the boy and winked. "Find a girl to tour you around."  
  
"Camus." Miklotov sighed when Percival gave a wicked grin. These two are hopeless. "You're giving him ideas."  
  
"Run along now." Camus laughed, giving the boy a little push. "And come back here when you're done." He called to the retreating form of Percival. He waved a hand, a sign that he heard him, then disappeared into the crowds.  
  
An hour later, Percival finished purchasing the materials his mother wanted. Bags in hand, he walked toward the Item Shop to buy medicine, the last on his list. As he made his way toward the shop, he saw a blond haired boy coming his way, a bottle of wine in his hands. He looked around his age and Percival decided to talk to him. Might as well make acquaintances while he's here, he thought.  
  
"Hey." He smiled at the boy as he neared him. "Aren't you too young to be drinking that?"  
  
The city boy stopped, a frown formed on his face. Looks like he can't appreciate a little joke. "This isn't for me, you idiot." His sherry brown eyes narrowed at him. "It's for our wine collection."  
  
Percival frowned as well. He doesn't like being called names. "Did you just call me an idiot?"  
  
"Because you are!"  
  
"Oh yeah?" Percival glared at the boy. "Well. . . ," he paused, ". . .well, you're short!" He then stepped forward, showing the other boy his full height, a conceited smile on his face.  
  
The blond haired boy gnashed his teeth, his grip on the bottle tightening. He didn't have to rub it in. He knew he was short, and was a little sensitive about that fact. The top of his head only reached the other boy's nose. He growled. "At least I'm---"  
  
"Ah, there you are." Camus suddenly spoke behind Percival. "I've been looking for you." When the Red Knight neared the boys, he felt the tension that vibrated between the two. "Did I interrupt something?" He asked, an amused smile on his face.  
  
"It's nothing." Percival answered and grinned. "I'm just being welcomed the Zexen way."  
  
"Ah, I see."  
  
"Is he your son, sir?" The blond haired boy suddenly demanded, looking at the newcomer. "You should teach him some manners. He's very rude." He continued, not noticing that both of them stilled.  
  
The silence lengthened.  
  
Camus finally stepped forward and towered over the boy. He leaned toward him, leveling their gazes. A vein pumped in his temples. "Do I look like a have a son?" He asked quietly. Wrong answer and this kid is going to get it.  
  
"He's not my father." Percival said behind the knight, a teasing smile forming on his lips. "He's my uncle." He grabbed Camus sleeve and tugged. "Can we go home now, Uncle Camus? I'm hungry."  
  
The expression on the Red Knight's face when he looked back at Percival was priceless. He spluttered the word. "Uncle?!" Bloody hell. He's only twenty-seven! He's not that old, is he? He practically felt himself age when he heard the boy call him that.  
  
Percival tugged at his crimson sleeve again, a wide grin on his face. "We should be going home now, Uncle. Or we're going to be late for dinner."  
  
"I ought to stuff half a dozen of your mother's lettuce in your mouth." Camus muttered as he led Percival away from the blond haired boy. Percival grinned in response. Camus laughed afterward and shook his head. The boy got him good that time.  
  
* * *  
  
"Please take me with you when you return to Dunan." Camus placed his cup of ale back on the table and looked at the solemn face of Percival. The tavern was quite empty that night. It was getting late. Both knight and boy sat at the far end of the tavern.  
  
Percival went up to the inn and knocked on Camus' door, requesting the knight to have a little talk with him. The boy looked so serious that Camus agreed, despite the lateness of the hour. There, in the tavern, they sat. Percival told him that he wanted to become a knight, wanted to join the Matilda Knighthood. He wanted to become one of them.  
  
But Camus thought it irrational. Becoming a knight of Matilda will sever his ties to Grasslands. As it did to his. Not only is the Matilda Knightdom far from Iksay, but becoming a knight requires years of hard training. He cannot let the boy leave his village. Not until. . .  
  
"What about your mother?" Camus asked after a long silence.  
  
"My mother? W-Well. . ."  
  
"Be assured, Percival, that I am very pleased you want to become part of our Knightdom. Privileged even." Camus continued when the boy couldn't. "For I know you have the traits and skills to become one of the best." He paused. "But I'm afraid I have to give you up. For now." Percival's hands that rested on the table balled into fists as he frowned in confusion. Why?  
  
"Your mother needs you more than the Matilda Knighthood does." Camus leaned forward. The boy must understand him. "You cannot leave your mother. Not yet. For your duty as a son is to help your mother. Fulfill your responsibilities to your family first. That way, when you become a knight, you can attend to your duties to your liege without any qualms. Else you'll find yourself unsatisfied with your decision and then you might even end up regretting it. Do you understand?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Do what you have to do in the village. Savor the time while you are still here." Camus explained. "And by the time you will leave Iksay, you will feel content. For the moment you completely involved yourself in this village, tried everything that the village has to offer, would you be able to say 'I've done what I'm supposed to do here, I'm now ready to leave.'" He paused, quite glad that the boy was listening to him.  
  
"Because if you don't, you might end up quitting the Knighthood and coming back here to fill that emptiness."  
  
"That will never happen! I will never leave the knighthood!" Percival vehemently replied.  
  
"It will. Unless you do as I say."  
  
Percival nodded. All right. He will. But his decision is final, he will become a knight. The Red Knight made him realize that dream, but first, he will heed his advice.  
  
"Good." Camus chuckled as stood up, leaving some coins on the table. "Come. I'll take you home." Percival stood up as well and led the way out of the tavern. Oil lamps set alight the almost empty street of the village. The cool night breeze blew as they headed toward the Fraulein Household in silence.  
  
Camus broke it. "Iksay is one of the most beautiful villages I've ever been to. The tranquil air can clear a troubled mind. You should be proud of your village." He waited for the boy to reply. When he received none, he continued. "Has your village ever been attacked?"  
  
Percival scoffed. "Who would even want to attack Iksay? We hold no treasure here except our produce."  
  
"But what if, goddess forbid, you were suddenly attacked? Will an army come to your aid?" Camus asked.  
  
"I. . . I don't know." Percival frowned. "Maybe the Zexen Knights will come. It is the nearest city than can help us. The Budehuc Castle up north has ceased its operations for a long time now."  
  
"The Zexen Knights, eh?"  
  
"Aye." Percival nodded. "But we must not depend on others if we are to save the village. We will do our best to defend it ourselves."  
  
"True. But without proper training?"  
  
Percival stopped in front of his house and turned to look at the knight. Is he suggesting something? Easily following his train of thought, Percival grasped Camus' meaning. "Are you implying that. . . ?" Camus grinned in response as he nodded his head. "Becoming a Zexen Knight to defend my village. Not a bad idea."  
  
* * *  
  
Camus and Miklotov left Iksay Village the next day. Percival and his mother stood by the village gates as they watched the Matilda Knights disappear from their view. The raven haired boy took a few steps forward.  
  
Oh, come on! So what if he'll never see the Red Knight again? The Lord Camus has just been annoying during his stay here. He made Percival do the most foolish things he could think of. Like pursuing women, irritating the hell out of people who deserved it, and cooking. Cooking, can you believe it? The knight said it is a valuable skill one must learn in order to survive. And so he tried it and proved to be very efficient with it. His mother praised his culinary talent. He just had to flush.  
  
Well, it was all good and fun. Sometimes, he even had fun hanging out with the Red Knight and his madcap ideas. He learned sword fighting and horseback riding from him, which could prove very useful in the future. The knight even left his steed for him to sharpen his riding skills. He has done a lot for him.  
  
Their paths will never cross again.  
  
Before Percival realized it, he was running toward the knight. Camus must have heard him coming. He turned at the same time Percival latched onto him, enclosing the knight in a bear hug.  
  
"Thanks." The word was muffled as he buried his face on the knight's crimson coat.  
  
"You're welcome." Camus chuckled as he playfully ruffled his dark head. "Make your mother and the villagers proud. And become a knight who is noble, worthy, and humble."  
  
* * * 


End file.
